You're my sweetheart
by carriemontgomery
Summary: My first ever fanfic. Delena, of course. R&R please! xo


_I've been trying to do it right_

_I've been living a lonely life_

_I've been sleeping here instead_

_I've been sleeping in my bed,_

_I've been sleeping in my bed._

Ever since we were young, I have had to take care of my stupid baby brother. Cover for him, put his needs before my own, give him my toys when he broke his. I became a vampire because of him. I left him with Lexi because I failed to help him and then left, per Lexi's request, the second time because once again, apparently I was not good enough for my baby brother.

I vowed to love Katherine for all eternity. I was willing to give up my humanity, my mortality to spend an eternity with her. My father had me shot, wanted nothing to do with me but I didn't care as long as I had her. Then she left me, for my baby brother.

Every person I have ever loved has died, whether by my own hands or not. Except him. The baby brother that I was never good enough for, no matter how hard I tried. I'm the bad brother. I'm the liability, the nuisance. Screw humanity, screw my conscience. Until her. And once again, I failed my baby brother. I fell in love with his girl. So that's how I came to be laying here, on my bed, alone, again where sleep continues to evade me. Thinking about my life story: Damon vs. Stefan.

_So show me family_

_All the blood that I would bleed_

_I don't know where I belong_

_I don't know where I went wrong_

_But I can write a song._

My mother used to play the piano, this piano. That's why I keep it instead of buying a baby grand. This is the one token of my past I allow myself – hidden in plain sight. After a fight with my father I would always hear my mother playing and I would fall asleep to her melodies. So, this is me, 145 years later, trying anything to make me fall asleep so I can stop thinking about everything. About her. About how much I love her. About how she deserves to be loved, much more than my brother ever gave her.

"Damon?"

Dammit. As if it's not enough to fantasize about her, having the real thing in front of me will be almost unbearable, almost.

"Parlour," I reply as I stand and down the rest of my bourbon in one swallow.

She walks in wearing the tightest jeans imaginable and I am overcome with appreciation for the people who got women from 19th century hoop skirts to those glorious things. Yep, I need another drink. Or twenty.

"Want one?" I do my flirty little eye thing I know she loathes (loves) as I walk towards the drink cart.

"Was that you playing the piano before?"

I turn towards the cart to pour myself a larger helping than I originally anticipated. Why does she have to be so curious, so nosy? I see her out of the corner of my eye – arms crossed, disappointment in her expression.

"Yes." I shrug my shoulders at my admittance. She doesn't change her stance. Guess I'm going to have to give more.

"It was something my mother taught me, and wrote." There. That should shut her up. And it does, shock can do that to a person. But only for a second… And then that pesky curiosity comes back into her eyes. What is with her and trying to get the humanity to come out in me? Doesn't she see how much it freaking hurts?

"You've never talked about your mother before." She drops her arms and turns away to sit at the piano; I catch a whiff of her shampoo as her hair swings around her shoulders. Coconut, peach, perfection.

I pour another drink and down it. "You don't think that might be for a good reason?"

"Don't you think you've had enough?" Ahh, disappointments' back.

"Nope." I pop the P as I give up on the glass and pick up the bottle, gesturing it at her. She sighs and turns back to the piano. I usually hate people sitting at my mother's piano. It brings out some sort of possessive side in me.

"Stefan isn't here you know… won't be back for a while, went hunting Bambi with Barbie." I take a swig from the bottle as I walk towards the entryway and away from this room. I need to get out.

"I know. Jeremy is with Bonnie and I hate that house when I'm alone. So I thought maybe the only other person in town by himself might like the company."

Damn. Guilt tripping. She's good.

"Will you teach me something?" She turns back to the piano.

I sigh, she's got me wrapped around her little finger, and what's worse is that she knows it. Time to take another drink… It's only when she turns around to glare at me for taking so long that I stop and sit down. She takes the bottle out of my hands and places it on the side table. Interesting that she knows not to put it on top of the piano – has she picked up on its seeming importance already or am I just paranoid? I begin to teach her the basics of my favourite song. It was one my mother started to write one Sunday afternoon in my early teens. I finished it only a couple of years ago.

It takes a while for her to get the notes but it's a fairly slow song and she only laughs through her mistakes. This, I think is adorable. It reminds me of my mother, when she would teach me. She had such a beautiful spirit and I see that in Elena. Unlike my father who saw mistakes as weaknesses and weaknesses were not tolerated in his house. She gets me to laugh, which is a rarity. Her smile is infectious. How could it not be when it's that beautiful?

It could be minutes, it could be hours later and then we play together. She plays the chords I have taught her and I play the melody along with it. It sounds beautiful, the perfect duet.

_1, 2, 3_

_I belong with you,_

_You belong with me,_

_You're my sweetheart._

_I belong with you,_

_You belong with me,_

_You're my sweetheart._

It is then that the air around us is less about laughter and becomes something more. I stare at her hands, touching my mother's keys. It's a sight that could make someone like Stefan cry, but not me, not now, not with her. I can feel her eyes on me, which is why her fingers falter on the notes, but I continue where she left off. Her heartbeat is slowing to the beat of the music, calming her subconsciously. This is when she leans her head against my shoulder and wraps her arm through mine. It's as if she can feel that this is hard for me, she can sense that I needed her to let me know it's okay. My hands slow as I come to the end of the song – not wanting the moment to end, not wanting to break the spell that has been cast on this moment. But every song ends. It's part of their beauty.

_I don't think you're right for him_

_Look at what it might have been if you_

_Took a bus to Chinatown_

_I'd be standing on Canal_

_And Bowery_

_And she'd be standing next to me._

My hands drop to my knees, not wanting to believe in what is happening. I look up to the ceiling to stop the tears that want to fall, for my mother, for Stefan, for Elena, for myself. She reaches up with her other hand to my face to try to get me to look at her, but I can't. I shake her off and begin to reach for my bourbon. She's more forceful this time; she's not going to let me shrug it off like I always do. "Don't." It's a whisper so small I almost miss it.

I look into those beautiful brown doe eyes for the first time and almost don't believe what I find there. I don't remember the last time someone looked at me like that. With such appreciation, devotion, love.

"I didn't come here to talk to Stefan. But something tells me you already knew that."

And that's when I realise she'll always know me better than I know myself, because I did know. Otherwise, I would have shrugged her off and I would never have let her bring up my mother. She leans up into me and for a second I don't move for fear that I have actually fallen asleep and this is all a dream I could wake up from at any second. But then our lips touch and the world tilts back onto its axis. It's sweet, loving but passionate. I take her bottom lip into my mouth and suck lightly before she pulls back and places her forehead on mine. She slides her hand down to my chest and moves to snuggle her head into my neck. I wrap my arms around her and sigh contently. She tucks her legs up onto the piano seat but I think we've both had enough for tonight. I keep one arm tucked firmly behind her waist and lean around to grab her legs with my other arm. She wraps her arms around my neck and snuggles further into me as I begin to walk upstairs. I carry her to my room and have to get into bed with her as she refuses to let go of me, even for a second. And finally, the two people who were alone have found someone they can fall asleep with.

_Love – we need it now._

_Let's hope for some._

_So, we're bleeding out._

I wake up the next morning from sunlight shining on my face. I glace over at the curtain that I forgot to close, damn. I throw my arm over my eyes and groan at myself because now I have to get up. I try but there's something heavy on my chest. I look down to see the most beautiful creature to ever walk the earth is snuggled into me, clinging on as if I am the most precious thing she has ever held. Then I remember and I feel like crying when I realise it wasn't just another dream. Her eyelashes are fluttering and suddenly those gorgeous eyes are connected with mine and I see just as much relief in her eyes as there is in mine. I can't believe she's mine. I can't believe I deserve for her to be mine.

As if she can read my thoughts (again), she says, "Yes, I'm still here and yes, I'm yours Damon. Always yours." She strokes my face lovingly.

We smile as I lean down and brush her lips with a kiss, "Morning sweetheart."

She giggles as she moves up to straddle me and grabs my face in an effort to kiss me deeper. I could definitely get used to this.

_I belong with you,_

_You belong with me,_

_You're my sweetheart._

_I belong with you,_

_You belong with me,_

_You're my sweetheart._


End file.
